


Say You Love Me

by LiotusWrites



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Communication Issues, Cor is allergic to feelings, Drama, DrauCor, Draucor Christmas Exchange 2019, M/M, Romance, fancy rooftop parties, naked shower massages
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-03
Updated: 2020-01-03
Packaged: 2021-02-27 13:55:30
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,911
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22098280
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LiotusWrites/pseuds/LiotusWrites
Summary: Cor avoids feeling anything deep for anyone these days. It’s distracting to his work and focus, but more so the chance of anything going horribly wrong, was too painful a risk. But since Titus walked into his life he found that a strange balance had been settled in his world; he can’t stop thinking about the man when he’s but an arms length away, and apart, his memory is but sweet incentive to rise again in the morning and march forward to whatever awaits him that day.And watching Titus walk away fills him with an icy terror.
Relationships: Titus Drautos | Glauca/Cor Leonis
Comments: 1
Kudos: 14
Collections: DrauCor Christmas Exchange 2019





	Say You Love Me

**Author's Note:**

> Yes I am posting this gift exchange in 2020 cause I'm a terribly slow writer. For @nursexxmorphine on the twitterz. I hope you like this.

Cor was nervous, that much was clear even to himself as he fumbles with the cufflinks on his formal suit. It’s the anniversary of the cities founding and King Regis was feeling in the party mood. Tonight was to be a huge gala in celebration of the event at Insomnias finer rooftop bars. Fireworks, dancers, pretty dresses and even peacocks - the King demanded the works all around. Although it will be more lavish then ceremonious, absolutely everyone will be there.

The King has been in an exceptionally good mood recently, and everyone seems to be feeling the effects of this. There hasn’t been a party this big thrown for the holidays in a long time so the excitement was palpable amongst staff and even the higher ranks of council. It was a good feeling to be surrounded by the air of joy for once, everyday business at the citadel was not always forgiving.

Cor paces his room at the Citadel after the final touches to his formal suite were complete. Again, he looked closely in the mirror; the hair lining his chin and jaw is neatly trimmed and shaped. His face is clean and smooth after a thorough washing and his teeth are as white as ever. He’s looking fresh and presentable, not a hair out of place; he assures himself. 

There’s really nothing else he can do to look his best for the night. Cor hates to admit to himself that he’s been through the conventional requirements many times. A new, clean and pressed dress suite, colour coordinated to match the latest in male fashion trends; the tailor in Insomnias wealthier districts had matched him with a fitted, all black suit and vest, topped with a silken tie that shimmered in the light. A haircut was also needed, he had it cropped shorter than usual as - according to the barber, it brought out the strong angles on his face. 

He watches his phone for a moment before turning away. Only to do it again a moment later. His head swarms with eager thoughts and each fight for his attention, only adding to the stress building in his chest. He’s already had many people contact him in the past hour - of course, he is a busy Marshal and duty never ends. But right now there’s really only one person he’d like to hear from, and Cor hasn’t heard anything from that particular person in days. 

Not that he could blame the man.

Cor sighs. His hair is neat, his shoes are shined and he’s as ready as he will ever be. Yet the hole in his stomach grows. 

Anyone of any importance in Insomnia will be at the gala, what is there not to enjoy? Or so Cor reasons. There is nothing left to do and the Marshal has lingered long enough. He pushes the unpleasant memory of last weeks events to the side as he grabs his black blazer and heads out the door for the party. 

~~~

“Wow…” Cor murmured to himself as he took in the grand sights of the rooftop party before him. Not a cloud in the night sky, only the moon illuminated the lights and glamour to an ethereal glow. No expense was spared for this particular night. Dancers painted in gold roamed freely both enticing and exciting guests, the canapes looked as if it came straight out of an artists canvas and the live band playing set the mood to a lively buzz.

With champagne flute in hand he wandered about. Soldiers eyes darted here and there keeping watch for a certain, broad shouldered man. But he was quick to find the group of high councillors to his relief.

Clarus smiled, quickly spotting him too and said, “was wondering when you were finally going to arrive, Leonis.”

Seeing Clarus out of his own councillor garb put him at ease about his own state. “Took an age and a half to get the hang of this monkey suit.”

Clarus burst out laughing and patted him on the shoulder, taking a long sip of his red wine in hand. Judging by the slight red on his cheeks it’s far from his first.

“Nonsense, you’re looking sharp, Cor. Being off duty for one night would do you some good.”

“Well, his Majesty did forbid it this evening.”

“And with good reason,” Clarus affirmed.

Cor did notice the King in question wasn’t around, “where has he gone to?”

Clarus was being pulled away by the councillors as more guests joined their circle. The man said, “late as usual, nothing to be worried about. Drink, eat, enjoy yourself. I believe some of your friends are already looking for you.”

Clarus quickly left with the other councillors in an air of heavy laughter and loud conversation. Monica and the other guardsmen would eventually come looking for him for their goal after all, was to attempt to get the Marshal as drunk as possible. So avoiding his usual crowd for now seemed like a good plan. For now, as discreetly as he can he scans the many faces at the party before picking up some food from the nearest waiter. 

It was an effort and a half to make his way through the many bodies at the party and quickly speak to the guests that were clearly eager to speak with him. But finally he was able to grab a quick bite of the unusual looking canapes and a refill of his champagne. He heads up the second floor where the aquarium takes centre stage and the open balcony overlooks the city in a couched area away from the busy lower floor. There are a few couples enjoying the quiet and lone individuals savoring cigars in the cool night. 

It’s no secret, Cors head is distracted once again and the party atmosphere did little to help his deep thoughts. He leans on the railing and looks ahead at the lights of the city, the moment of air and space helps settle his nerves. He continues to drink, the warmth of the alcohol almost assures him he can enjoy the night without any drama for once.

But in truth, the only person creating any drama had been himself. 

“Good evening, Marshal.” Titus stood behind Cor, and he nearly jumped when he heard the other mans voice so close.

Cor looked at Captain Drautos in his rather classical black and white tuxedo. The Captain cleaned up very nicely, in fact. The suit outlined his form so well it was hard to forget how much broader the man was. Cor quickly turned away and back to the sight of the city, suddenly focused on his irregular breathing.

“Captain.”

The silence that followed was hollow, and seconds ticked by like days. Oh, the agony.

“H-how is your evening, Captain?”

“Good, Marshal” came the curt reply.

Even more seconds of empty air. The music kept playing and the guests chattered in a background fading miles away. Cor finally turned around and stared pensively at the floor. Titus made no motion to leave. Where do they even begin?

“I apologise...if my actions the week before has caused offence, Marshal.”

Cor blinked and looked at him in surprise. 

“Ah, right. Apology accepted.” Cor was already mentally kicking himself as soon as the words fell out of his mouth.

Titus said quietly, “truly, I am sorry. I misinterpreted the situation, I should not have assumed anything. It’s just you-”

The Captain shook his head, stopping his line of thought before saying, “have a good night Marshal. I hope we can still be amicable.”

As calm and collected as he ever was, seemingly unaffected by anything at all he left Cor alone. Cor gripped the railing to stop himself from foolishly running after him. He’s at a loss, all that was left was the memories in his head of what happened the week before.

~~ 7 DAYS AGO ~~

It was inevitable for the both of them to end up in the situation that they did. Like the gathering of a perfect storm. A particularly stressful month for the military led them to spend more time together in the meeting room, coordinating, planning and strategizing together. 

It wasn’t the first time Cor had met Drautos, though, something about him changed when the man marched into the meeting room one day, folder in hand, scruffy stubble and sheer fire in his eyes. He's an insomniac on a mission; he stormed right up to the Marshal and bowed, though he acknowledged their difference in rank, his eyes spoke the truth. He was getting his way whether Cor liked it or not. 

Something about that covert defiance didn’t upset the Marshal but rather roused an intrigue for the man that he never felt before. When had the Glaive Captain been this determined?

No matter. Titus didn’t get his way in the meeting room that day and it gave the Marshal a secret pleasure to see the man rattled. Besides, it allowed ample opportunity to visit the Glaive barracks and see how things were run, or rather - see how the fire was fueled. Needless to say, he liked what he saw enough to go back again and again.

Whether the Captain felt the same, or even suspected Cors motive for lingering often; Cor wouldn’t know. Titus accepted their near daily meetings, accepted whatever excuse Cor came up with to be near his office in the Citadel or down at the Glaive HQ. It was near puzzling at times, Titus never refused Cors presence - requested it, even. At times Cor swore the Captain deliberately fed whatever hunger was starting to grow between them. Openly welcoming the late night meetings, closed door conversations, casual dinner outside work - all of it suddenly began to feel so very taboo. 

And then everything came to a head. A brutal sparring match and a broken water pipe later, saw them ending up in a shower together with their backs turned.

Cor had sighed as the water sprayed onto his back, hitting a particularly sore spot between his shoulders.

“I’m going to feel that in the morning,” grunted the Marshal. The pain was almost needle sharp, but it felt worth it. Though in truth, that was the last thing he was thinking about.

Titus was an excellent sparring partner and right now, even sharing a shower together just felt right. It’s given a lot for Cor to think about, new thoughts and sensations that keep rising to the surface whenever he’s around the man - the sheer surge of it all was near frightening.

“You sure you’re alright? I heard your back crack when you hit the post. We have an on call physician for after hours - I’ll call him.”

Cor smiled, “It’s fine, I think I pinched a nerve somewhere. Nothing a massage can’t fix.”

“If you say so.”

They continued to shower in the warmth, and even after Cor was well and truly clean he made no motion to turn off the running water. Neither did Titus. And the ache in his back only grew in intensity.

He was surprised how timid his words came out, “Do you mind giving me a hand...with my back? It’s getting worse I think.”

In the long silence that followed Cor thought that Titus had already stepped out of the shower at some point, but the answer came with firm hands gripping Cors shoulders and carefully making their way inwards. Fingers pushed into tight muscle, moving up and around in search of the sore spot.

“T-There!”

The hair on his arms sharply raise at the touch and Cor bites his tongue, Titus didn’t seem to notice. The Marshal had the urge to retreat from the other mans touch but he stayed firm; this was just to help his back. Nothing more.

“Between your shoulders, wasn’t it?” His voice so close he could feel the breath on his skin. 

“Yes…”

The Marshal groaned as Titus continued to add pressure, so hard yet soothing to his body. He quickly covered his mouth. Not a word was said as the Captain continued to follow the lines down Cors back ever so slowly. Following the trail of wound up muscle lower and lower, he now completely neglected the sore spot between his shoulders. A panic began to set within Cors chest when his hips were grabbed. Titus had Cor close to him; wet bodies pressed tightly against one another.

The Captains voice was deep, laced with a hint of lust. “You want more, right?”

Cor felt every muscle and curve of the mans body against his back, raw, naked,  _ exposed _ .

A gentle kiss was placed on his neck and Titus murmured beneath the warmth, “You make me feel a certain way, Cor. And I want more of you - all of you.”

Perhaps it was the confession, or the shock of the sudden touch but Cor could no longer handle it. 

“Unhand me!” He suddenly barked, and gave Titus a forceful shove back.

Cor stormed out of the shower. Not caring to dry himself, he simply threw his clothes on and ran without looking back.

~~ PRESENT ~~

  
  


The party continued and the late hours soon came by, the full moon shining with all its intensity. King Regis was fashionably late as always, bringing new life to the party as he and his entourage graced the party floor. Cor was glad he was finally here, it got the more pesky and intrusive statesmen off his back. 

From a distance the King spotted him and eagerly waved. Cor smiled and gave a clumsy wave back, nearly stumbling back into the water fountain beside him. 

“Careful Marshal! You’ve definitely had one too many drinks,” laughed Monica as she tried to keep him from falling in.

“Night’s young Monica, he needs more!” Jeered the other off-duty Crownsguard at their side.

Cor tried to shake off his spinning head to no avail. He stared at the now empty wine glass in hand with intensity, pondering how on Eos he had finished his glass so quickly. 

“Its...empty already,” he gruffed.

Monica and the others only laugh harder in their own very tipsy state. Cor pays it no attention, only thinking that it’s probably time to start finding water and food and avoid becoming too vulnerable.

“I’m going to find some food.” He said, leaving the drunk crownsguard to jeer and chatter amongst themselves. The music has picked up and the party lights sparkled yellow and white in his foggy vision. It didn’t take long to find the grazing table off to the side of the dance floor with a huge selection of weird, wonderful and colourful looking food that seem to replenish itself constantly. 

A familiar bark of laughter made him turn head instantly. Captain Drautos was not too far away, conversing with what could only be his fellow Glaivemen midway down the stairs that trail into the lobby. 

He was really looking handsome tonight, and dare he think - desirable. Cor looked away, ashamed. But he can only avoid the man for so long, Cor would need to apologise in return at some point. That incident at the showers had been no fault of Titus, even then, what he must think of Cor now.

Cor ate his fill and absolutely downed glass after glass of water. Titus did say he wanted things to be amicable, then by indication he isn’t completely angry about that evening together. Surely?

“That stuff on the gold plate; is that some sort of Garula meat?” Titus asked.

Cor looked beside him and there he was, nonchalant and eyeing the mountain of food before them with mild intrigue. “Actually, I’m not sure…” 

Titus raised a brow, barely holding back a smile. “And yet you had five of them.”

Now very embarrassed, Cor only managed nervous laughter. Seems he was being watched shamelessly consuming everything on the table.

“Y-yes.” Cor outright blushed.

With concern now crossing his face Titus remarked rather curtly, “you need to stop drinking now, you’ve had too many.”

Cor frowned, feeling immediately heated. “Watch your tone with me! I can do what I please!”

“I’m only concerned. No need to bite.” Titus stormed off without taking anything from the table.

What is it about the entire past week that threw Cor in a chaotic spiral downwards.

“Titus wait!” Cor quickly chased after the Captain, vision suddenly veering off centre and swaying side to side. Cor realised exactly how many drinks he had downed when he hit the corner of the big table with a loud bang, Titus was quick to turn and seize the Marshals arm before he fell over completely.

The nearby waiters were quick to rush to Cors aid, faces closing in on him asking if he was ok. Titus kept his grip firm on him long enough for Cor to gain focus again. His embarrassment only worsening as nearby eyes turn to watch them curiously, oh what a fool he has made of himself again.

Titus shooed them away and stared down the curious eyes that watched, “thank you, he’ll be fine. I’ll keep watch.”

Cor sighed in relief as the space eventually cleared, “I keep doing foolish things. I apologise for speaking to you like that.”

Titus frowned but let his arm go, “No, I...I was blunt.”

“Captain, it’s just that I’m always thrown off centre whenever you’re around. You do things to me.”

Shock flashes past Titus’ face, and Cor isn’t sure what to make of it. Only that Titus is now leading them both away from the party, down the stairs and into the secluded lobby below. Cor is relieved to find a line of sofas and ottomans neatly placed around the ornate, golden room. He choses a couch and lets himself melt into the soft cushioning, head resting against the wall.

He murmurs, “much better.”

“You’ll be fine.” Titus sits beside him, careful to leave a small space between. 

Cor sits comfortably, listening to Titus shift on the couch, then listening to him quietly breath. Now seemed as good a time as any.

“Have you been well, Titus?”

He says, “no, I haven’t.”

Cor flinched, though he was not surprised by the mans honesty. Titus says, “It’s been a difficult week down at HQ, but add to that the fact that you decided to disappear.”

“I know, I - I was busy. I just needed space.”

Titus nods, “your absence was still felt. Regardless, I’ll keep my distance.”

Cor leans forwards. “No, I don’t want you to do that. You’re my trusted...colleague.”

“ _ Colleague _ .” Says Titus, doing little to hide his disappointment.

“I don’t know what else to say. I don’t know what's happening here.”

It was incredible how one could literally feel the other mans anger radiating off him.

“Titus?”

Titus looked to Cor with such hard eyes. “Was I not clear enough with what I felt when I had you naked in the shower?”

The Marshal looks away in shame. “You were clear.”

“Then I made a huge error in judgement.”

Cor leaned forward, “no, you didn’t.”

With a sudden long pause Titus gathers his temper. “None of this is a game to me, Marshal.”

“It’s not for me either, you know that.”

Titus relents, “No, I don’t know. But I see this clearly isn’t working anymore. I’ll leave you alone. Have a good night, Marshal.”

Titus gets up to leave the lobby.

Cor avoids feeling anything deep for anyone these days. It’s distracting to his work and focus, but more so the chance of anything going horribly wrong, was too painful a risk to take. But since Titus walked into his life he found that a strange balance had been settled in his world; he can’t stop thinking about the man when he’s but an arms length away, and apart, his memory is but sweet incentive to rise again in the morning and march forward to whatever awaits him that day. 

And watching Titus walk away fills him with an icy terror.

The time Cor had spent alienated from him left a hole in his chest, suddenly everything he did in his work and life routine felt oddly hollow. A large piece was missing inside him and it ached for only one solution that terrified him completely.

He moves to follow but keeps on the couch, not trusting his balance. “Titus, I miss you. And I love you. I do want more.”

What Cor found was the fear of remaining empty inside was smothered by the fear that this man made him so utterly and completely whole. 

Titus looked at Cor in confusion, but his expression immediately softened. It was almost vulnerable as the Marshals words slowly sink into his heart. “You are so full of mixed signals.”

Cor had it in him to laugh, “trust you to say that when I’m trying to be honest.”

“You’re an honest kind of drunk then, Marshal?”

  
  
Cor huffs. “I’m always honest...just reticent. And I’m not completely drunk, I’m being serious.”

The Marshal feels a hint of satisfaction when Titus chuckles. Cor gets up, his balance finding itself quickly and his head more or less clear as he approaches Titus. He really did miss the Captain, now that he was here and close it felt right again.

“This is hard for me Titus. It’s been years since my last...love, and I promised myself to never be open again. But I don’t want to be without you. Living like that was agony and I hated what was happening to me.” 

Titus is very rarely emotive, though in that moment he can see the concern and passion swimming in the depths of warm brown eyes. It was as if he felt such sadness within, and Cor knows then and there, that Titus feels it too.

He closes the gap and carefully reaches up to caress the back of Cors neck. “I get it, and I’m sorry. I get it. I want to be with you too, we can give this a shot. Whatever this is between us.”

Thankfully nobody else was lingering in the lobby as this intimate moment in time would be completely theirs to cherish for years to come. The time they truly came together. 

Direct as always, the Captain says, “I want to kiss you.”

Cor feels heat surge to his cheeks once more, no thanks to the alcohol. He doesn’t feel so afraid of it now. “You can.”

Titus leans forward and kisses Cor, a gentle and tender kind of kiss. They embrace tightly, reconciled. For the first time in a long time the relief and joy was shared between them.

The Marshal pulls away and sighs in content, “What on Eos do we do now?”

Titus raises a brow, though there's no mistaking the mischief in his eye. “Well, no one is here and we have a couch right there we can use.”

Cor immediately scowls.

“I-Its a joke!”

The Marshal storms off with Titus quickly following, babbling all sorts of apology behind him. Cor simply hides his smile as they make their way up the stairs and into the night together. It doesn’t matter if others see them or what their opinions may be, only that as of now they were no longer just two men destined to solitude. But one heart and love hurtling towards whatever fate was in store for them.

And Cor rather liked not knowing, as the present was so much sweeter. 


End file.
